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His hot gaze was setting off all the usual fires, but this time they were so much more intense. Because this time she knew they would never need to be doused.
‘We’re in my office, in the middle of the day. That would be really inappropriate.’
His grin became more than a little wicked as he boosted her into his arms. ‘Screw appropriate.’
EPILOGUE
‘YOU GRAB THAT ONE... I’ve got this one.’
Xanthe laughed, scooping up her three-year-old son, Lucas, before he could head for the pool while she watched her husband dive after their one-year-old daughter who, typically, had crawled off in the opposite direction.
Rosie wiggled and chortled as her favourite person in all the world hefted her under his arm like a sack of potatoes—very precious potatoes—into the beach house that stood on a ridge overlooking the ocean.
After facing their third round of IVF, almost two years ago now, she and Dane had embarked on the slow, arduous route to adoption. The discovery a few months later that Xanthe was pregnant, in the same week they’d been given the news that they’d been matched with a little boy in desperate need of a new home, had been like having all their Christmases come at once, while being totally terrifying at the same time.
They would be new parents with two children. But could they give Lucas the attention he needed after a tough start in life while also handling a newborn?
Xanthe could still remember the long discussions they’d had late into the night about what to do. But once they’d met Lucas the decision had been taken out of their hands. Because they’d both fallen in love with the impish little boy instantly. As quickly as they’d later fallen in love with his sister, on the day she was born.
‘Mommy, I want to do more swimming,’ Lucas demanded.
‘It’s dinnertime, honey,’ Xanthe soothed as her son squirmed. ‘No more swimming today.’
‘Yes, Mommy—yes, more swimming!’ he cried out, his compact body full of enough energy to power a jumping bean convention—which was usually a sign he was about to hit the wall, hard.
‘Hey, I’ll trade you.’ Pressing a kiss to Rosie’s nose, Dane passed her to Xanthe. ‘You give the diaper diva her supper and I’ll take the toddler terminator for his bath.’
Dane nimbly hoisted their son above his head.
‘Come on, Buster, let’s go mess up the bathroom.’
‘Daddy, can we race the boats?’
‘You bet. But this time I get to win.’
‘No, Daddy, I always win.’
Lucas chuckled—the deep belly chuckle that Xanthe adored—as Dane bounced him on his hip up the stairs of the palatial holiday home they’d bought in the Vineyard, and were considering turning into their permanent base.
Dane had already moved his design team to Cape Cod, and was thinking of relocating the marketing and sponsorship team from the New York office, too. His business was so successful now that clients were prepared to come to him.
Xanthe allowed her gaze to drift down Dane’s naked back, where the old scars were barely visible thanks to his summer tan, until it snagged on the bunch and flex of his buttocks beneath the damp broad shorts as he mounted the stairs with their son. The inevitable tug of love and longing settled low in her abdomen as her men disappeared from view.
Extracurricular activities would have to wait until their children were safely tucked up in bed.
Rosie yawned, nestling her head against Xanthe’s shoulder, and sucked her thumb, her big blue eyes blinking owlishly. She cupped her daughter’s cheek. The flushed baby-soft skin smelled of sun cream and salt and that delicious baby scent that never failed to make Xanthe’s heart expand.
‘Okay, Miss Diaper Diva, let’s see if we can get some food into you before you fall asleep.’
After a day on the beach, trying to keep up with her daddy and her big brother while they built a sand yacht, her daughter had already hit that wall.
Ella, their housekeeper, arrived from the kitchen, as the aroma of the chicken pot pie she’d prepared for the children’s evening meal made Xanthe’s stomach growl.
‘Would you like me to feed her while you take a shower?’
‘No, we’re good.’ Xanthe smiled.
In their late fifties, and with their own children now grown, Ella and her husband John had been an absolute godsend when she’d gone back to work—taking care of all the household chores and doing occasional childcare duties while she and Dane concentrated on bringing up two boisterous children and running two multinational companies with commitments in most corners of the globe.
